Just Another Mission
by AthenaMay24
Summary: Natasha and Clint's relationship starts out shaky when Natasha is called away to deal with a billionaire who acts like Tony Stark before he became Iron Man. She has to try new tactics that will get the job done and not mess things up with Clint. Obviously Clintasha and I obviously own nothing. Rated T because I'm paranoid. I own nothing.
1. Ch 1: Just Another Mission

**A/N This fic takes place shortly after Clint and Natasha start dating. It came out of a conversation with Black Widow and Hawkeye OTP, in which I was convinced to give writing Clintasha another try. I wasn't too happy with 'AfterParty', so I was reluctant to try again. But here this is. Please review and let me know what you think! **

Ch. 1: Just Another Mission

"Should we tell them?" Natasha whispered to her partner as the team snuck down the hallway.

"Nah. They're SHEILD. If they can't figure it out, they don't deserve to know." Clint replied, undeterred by the fact that they were breaking into the headquarters of an international smuggling ring.

"SHEILD doesn't know anything I don't want them to."

"Well, I can't say I'm that lucky. Not all of us have a super-brain, Nat." Clint said, rolling his eyes.

"Fury won't like it. He'll probably be livid when he finds out," she said before bursting into the room where all the leaders of the target organization were meeting. "Sorry, boys. Meetings over," she simpered to the room before they attacked.

Clint was prevented from responding right away, partly because he had his hands full of bodyguard and partly because he got distracted watching Nat work. By the time he'd taken care of one, she'd gotten three down and was halfway done with another. Granted, his was the biggest and he'd been sidetracked watching her.

"Fury doesn't have to. It's not like he'll fire us; we're his best agents." Clint said finally without a hint of modesty. He finished off the first man before moving to the next. The goons were slow and stupid, only attacking one at a time. "I thought international criminals were supposed to be smart?"

Tasha chuckled, "They rarely are. And Fury could disband Strike Team Delta." She jumped on a man's back and zapped him with her Widow's Bites.

Clint snorted, "No way I'll let that happen." He punched a guy in the face and looked around for the rest, only to realize Natasha had finished them off. "That was easy," he said, checking his partner for injuries.

She was doing the same to him. "Good, me either" Nat said, smiling. "Beat you by seven, Barton. Losing your edge?"

"No way. Maybe I just didn't want to beat my new girlfriend."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her comm unit, "Send in clean up. We're done here."

In short order a dozen agents in SHEILD black burst in and started cuffing the dazed smugglers.

An hour and a half later, Clint and Natasha were on their way to their respective locker rooms in SHEILD base after reporting on the mission accurately and concisely, just the way Fury liked it.

"So, you coming over tonight?" Natasha asked, scrubbing her face with a towel.

Clint looked her up and down and she raised an eyebrow expectantly, "Hmm. What exactly are you offering, Miss Romanoff?"

"How about dinner and maybe a backrub if you're good?"

"Backrub, huh? Will you be giving me one or me, you?"

"Well, you know the saying, you rub my back and I'll rub yours."

"I think you spent too much time in Russia, Tasha. The saying is most definitely 'scratch.'"

"I modified it to fit the situation," they'd reached where the hall diverged to the individual locker rooms, so they stopped in the fork, "And I can always go back to Russia, Agent Barton."

"Are you threatening to leave me, Romanoff?"

"Depends. You wanna keep being pert with me?"

"No, ma'am. I'll be good, ma'am."

"Believe it when I see it," Natasha muttered.

Clint laughed, "Maybe I'll come over . . . for dinner, of course. The chance to exchange backrubs with my favorite woman has nothing to do with it."

"'Course not," she smiled, "See you at my place, Clint. Don't be late."

"You didn't give me a time to be there."

"Exactly," Nat turned on her heel and disappeared into the locker room, with Clint watching her go.

** A/N So, please review. But just a warning, you won't be getting that backrub scene. I'll let you handle that in your imagination. Thanks for reading! –AthenaMay24**


	2. Ch 2: Not Just another Mission

Ch 2: Not Just another Mission

"Agent Romanoff, Barton," Director Fury nodded to the agents as they seated themselves across from him. They had received word early that morning that he had an assignment for one of them. Which didn't explain why they were both here. Natasha planned to find out why, this whole thing was weird.

Director Fury got right to the point, "Agent Romanoff, there is a target that requires your . . . particular skills. The head of StunCo,-"

"That company that makes electrical weapons, like tasers and stuff? Headed by, um, Marcus Lawrence?" Clint interrupted.

"Yes. They also make other lesser known weapons, not dissimilar to Natasha's Bites. Our intelligence tells us Mr. Lawrence is giving free weapons to any terrorist group who will help him locate certain disconnected items. We think he is building something."

"Is he giving them to only terrorist groups, or anybody who can help him get what he needs?" Clint once again interjected.

"We don't know. We aren't even sure he's the one doing it, the only lead we have is that it's StunCo weapons that are being sold. And Lawrence is the only one with the level of clearance required to build anything with the items. That we know of anyway. That's why we need Agent Romanoff. We want her in as a shadow. She'll be his new secretary. You leave today, as soon as you pack."

Natasha had been strangely silent during through the briefing, but now she spoke up, "Why is Clint here? This is a solo mission that doesn't involve him." Clint was a little hurt by this remark but Nat didn't appear to notice.

"I figured he'd want to know what his . . . partner was doing," Fury replied after a pause. Natasha nodded, as if this was exactly what she expected to hear. Fury dismissed them and they stood to leave. When Nat was halfway out the door, Fury called, "And, Agent Romanoff? Make him fall for you. Wrap him around your finger," Fury glanced at Clint, "You're good at that.

Natasha headed down the hall to the room where her undercover wardrobe was kept, with Clint trailing behind. "What the hell was that, Nat?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe and watched Natasha bustle around the room.

"He knows. Fury, I mean." She was grabbing garments and throwing then down, looking for something.

"What?"

"Fury knows about us. That's why he's sending me away. And he took them all!" She added, frustrated.

"Took what? And are you saying he's shipping you off to break us up?"

"Why else would he specifically ask me to seduce this guy? He didn't even specifically tell me to seduce Stark! I could just as easily go in, beat the guy up, and take the info," She started throwing clothes again, this time about half of them landed into the suitcase. "I'll have to make do, be creative," she muttered.

"Make do with what? What's missing?"

"The . . . Nevermind."

"Tasha."

"He took all the clothes I wanted to take," she said quietly, still packing.

Clint walked over to her suitcase, letting the door swing shut behind him, and picked up a white shirt. He let out a whistle, "I don't know . . . I think this shirt will get the job done. Not that you have a problem attracting men." He pawed through the suitcase, "Any of this stuff seems like it'll be fine . . ."

Natasha let out a frustrated shriek and grabbed the offending shirt and threw it into the reject corner.

"Natasha? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped and gritted her teeth.

This was weird. Usually if something was bothering her, Nat fessed up when he asked about it. "Okay. How do you know he knows?" Clint asked, trying to subtly calm her down and get information out of her.

"You couldn't tell? He knows. He called you in for briefing when you weren't needed and-" she stopped. "Did I upset you, asking why you were there?"

"A bit"

"I had to know if he knows. And he knows I know."

"How do you know he knows you know?"

"How could he not know? I practically told him I know he knows."

"How . . ?" Clint decided to stop trying to understand. "Okay. I missed that. I feel like I'm missing a lot," he gestured to the clothes scattered around, "And you were obviously missing something earlier, and it upset you, and you won't tell me what's wrong."

"He wants to cause problems, Clint."

"With the mission?"

"With us!" She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned onto his chest.

"What?" he asked softly, kissing her hair.

"God, you are so dense. Don't you have a problem with this?"

"With . . . what?"

"With me going after Marcus Lawrence."

"No . . ." he said slowly, wondering if he'd made some kind of boyfriend error he didn't know existed, "Should I?"

Natasha sighed, "I guess not." She grabbed her bag and started zipping it up.

"Nat?" when she didn't answer, Clint thought over everything that had happened. And then he felt really, really stupid. "Do you think – does Fury think– that I'll be upset about something you'll have to do with this Lawrence guy?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Glad you're finally with us. But won't you be upset?

"No. I've seen you do it before," she squinted at him and he said quickly, "Should I care?"

"Most people would, yeah. Why don't you?" Natasha was making that face, the face that meant she was trying to figure him out.

"I know it's fake. I know you don't mean any of it," he shrugged, "I've heard you complain about it."

"So it doesn't bother you at all?"

"I don't particularly like being in the same room and watching. . ."

"Well, it bothers me."

"It bothers you that it doesn't bother me?"

"No, seducing this guy bothers me."

"It's never bothered you before."

"Before was different. I don't feel right doing that to you."

"But you're not doing anything to me. I don't have the right to keep you from doing your job. And don't pretend that the job isn't important to you."

"Maybe priorities are changing. Clint, I'll get the job done, but I promise I won't let him touch me. In any way. I'd rather compromise the mission." Nat tucked a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear.

She was serious. She was completely serious. "Natasha, you heard Fury's orders. We can keep him from breaking us up without ruining important missions." Clint was very touched, and a tad relieved, at Nat's promise, but he wasn't about to let her get in trouble over this. He knew that she felt like she had to stay with SHEILD to make up for everything she'd done, and he felt the same way, but he wasn't sure she was doing this because she wanted to, or because she thought he wanted her to. Not that he liked what she'd been required to do in the past. Quite the opposite. And this guy was basically a pre-Afghanistan Tony Stark. But how could he argue? He smiled wryly, when Nick Fury planned to make them argue, he probably thought the viewpoints would be a little different.

But she wouldn't budge. Clint finally gave up. She knew how he felt, and she knew how she felt, and that was that.

She slung the bag over her shoulder and kissed him quickly. "See you when I get back."

"Right." She left him in the wardrobe room, with discarded outfits scattered in piles around him, wondering if she would do anything risky. He knew that, with Tasha, the answer was probably yes.

**A/N So, Natasha is off to her suspicious mission, trying to stay true to Clint. I'm not sure I got the conversation quite right, so please review and tell me what you think! Also, do you think Fury should get more involved in their relationship, like try to break them up and stuff? **


	3. Ch 3: Just Another Employee

Ch. 3: Just Another Employee

Natasha had to go straight from the plane to work. However, as far as Marcus Lawrence knows, she arrived yesterday. Rookie agents were already setting up an apartment for her nearby.

She walked up to the impressive front doors of StunCo National Headquarters, looking very much the nervous new employee she was supposed to be. But actually, Natasha was taking stock. She paused outside as if she was afraid to go in, and looked around. The building was flanked by two alleys, perfect for luring a target into or for a quick escape. Ground floor windows were bolted; she'd have to break them in order to escape that way. But, the architecture was very ornate so there were possible hand and foot holds if she needed to exit one of the unbolted upper floor windows. The roof was flat and if Clint was here that would be where he camped out. She missed the coverage him and his bow provided as much as she missed his witty retorts over her comm unit.

She reported to the woman in charge of communications and human resources, still playing the cowed new-recruit. The elderly lady, Mrs. Winters by name, had been Marcus Lawrence's childhood nanny and was considered the only woman who ever truly loved him. Natasha had heard a lot about Lawrence's only caregiver, but she chooses to make her own observations.

Her first observation: Mrs. Winters was very blunt about her charge's playboy tendencies. The first thing she said to Natasha was, "And he hired you _before _he saw you?" Mrs. Winters looked her up and down.

"I think he saw my shots from Tokyo. I had a modeling job there."

"Right," she shuffled through some papers. "Natalie, is it?"

"Yes ma'am, Natalie Rushman."

"You worked for Tony Stark?"

"Yes ma'am." It was dangerous, keeping that cover intact. But it was her favorite, and if anyone (Clint) messed up and called her 'Nat' no one would even blink.

"Can I ask you a question, Miss Rushman?"

"Absolutely."

"Did you ever sleep with Tony Stark?"

"No ma'am, our relationship was completely professional. I think that by the time I worked for him he was already infatuated with Pepper Potts."

"Well, can I ask a favor."

"Yes ma'am."

"Don't sleep with Marcus either."

"Of course not. But I have to ask, do you tell all your new employees this?"

"Only the ones he'll be interested in," she turned back to her computer, "Third floor, desk in the hall. There're papers on your desk. Enter the names and orders into the computer. Call down to me if you have any questions. Numbers in the directory."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you." Nat had learned a lot. First, Mrs. Winters knows Marcus Lawrence sleeps with employees, and doesn't approve of it. Second, Mrs. Winters thinks 'Natalie' is going to attract Lawrence's attention and is afraid Marcus will get his heart broken. Third, Mrs. Winters really loves Lawrence but has no illusions about his personality. Could she know about the weapons deals? Natasha wasn't sure that Mrs. Winters was the kind of person to deal with terrorists but she loves Lawrence enough to overlook it if he did it.

Natasha easily navigated to the third floor and began working. It didn't take much effort to enter names and numbers into the computer. The other part of her brain was scanning her surroundings and watching for Lawrence.

There, out the window. A muscle car pulled into the lot out the window to her left. Precisely seventeen minutes later the elevator started upwards. Natasha, knowing the basic layout of the building, knew that it had to be Lawrence coming up.

The desk was parallel to the hallway and served as a place to detain and question people before they bothered Lawrence in his office down the hall. By the time the elevator doors opened and Marcus Lawrence stepped out, Natasha had positioned herself standing on the far end of the desk from the elevator so she would be facing Lawrence when he came in.

With Nat leaning down pretending to work on something on the desk, Lawrence got a full view coming in. Natasha watched him through his reflection on a small glass paperweight. She almost smirked at the look on his face. He stepped towards her and cleared his throat. She jumped, as if he had scared her, and then widened her eyes when she 'realized' who he was.

"Mrs. Rushman, I presume?" Marcus Lawrence's voice had a silky quality that probably attracted many women, but to Natasha, it oozed overconfidence and arrogance.

"Miss, actually, sir," she looked at the ground, having already decided that shy and intimidated would work best on Lawrence.

"Well, _Miss _Rushman, may I personally say how glad I am to have you on board here at StunCo. What does my nanny have you working on?"

"Mrs. Winters told me to enter names and orders into the database, sir."

"Enough with this 'sir' stuff. Call me Marcus."

"Yes, . . . Marcus."

"This work is far to mediocre for someone of your caliber," Lawrence grabbed the phone on Nat's desk, "Send up Smithe." He turned back to Natasha, "Come with me, I have something much more interesting for you to do."

"Uh, but who will do the orders, sir? I shouldn't just leave them undone," she said, to all appearances a woman unsure if a man is making a pass at her. She even turned her face red, like she was embarrassed.

"Mrs. Smithe will handle them. Here I'll leave a note," Lawrence took a Post-it and wrote I big letters, 'Please finish entering order forms –Your boss.' Apparently Mrs. Smithe wasn't allowed to call him Marcus.

Natasha obediently followed him into his office. This was getting interesting. Would he try something right here?

"Natalie, can I call you Natalie?" she nodded and had to refrain from rolling her eyes, "So, Natalie, what are you looking for in your job here at StunCo?" Did this guy know how cliché he was being? If Hawk was here, she'd have to deal with his laughter over her comm unit. Well, he actually wouldn't laugh at the gaze Lawrence was now fixing her with.

"I just seem to have such bad luck with jobs. I'm looking for a change."

"Oh, sit, sit. Let me pour you some coffee," she sat, "So, I hear you worked for Tony Stark."

"Oh, yeah. He was such a jerk," Natasha took the proffered coffee and let her demeanor soften a bit, as if she was getting more and more comfortable around her boss. "He was always flirting with me. It was _so _unprofessional." Okay, so she threw that one in on the small hope that Lawrence would get the hint and _not _try to sleep with her.

"Hmm, I bet. But enough about Stark. You work for me now," Lawrence leaned back against the edge of his desk so that he was right in front of her, "I must confess, I don't call most employees in here like this. But I sensed something in you." He took her hand. Did most girls fall for this stuff? "I want to know more about you. You really fascinate me, Natalie." She almost burst out laughing. But he gave her the perfect opening.

"So you want to know my dirty secrets?" Natasha looked him in the eye and very deliberately took her hand back.

Lawrence seemed to not know how to respond, so she smiled as if she was just flirting. He returned the smile and said, "A girl like you? Do you even have secrets?"

"Everyone has secrets. I'll bet yours are pretty interesting."

"You take liberties, Miss Rushman. But yes I have a few dirty secrets of my own. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

Natasha had to once again hold back laughter, "Sir, I think this is going too far. I mean to keep my time her purely professional." She stood, so he followed suit.

In one fluid movement (that was obviously practiced), Lawrence had his face close to hers and his hand on the back of her neck. While Natasha saw the movement coming, she knew she had to quell every instinct to let him do it. "Do you still want to keep it professional?"

She ducked away, "Yes. Have a nice day, Mr. Lawrence." She made it to the door before he came after her.

"Wait, I apologize, I should've respected your decisions. Please, let me make it up to you."

"What are you asking?"

"Some time out side of work to get to know each other."

"I don't think that would be appropriate."

"Uh, let me drive you home!" he sounded really desperate, he must really want her.

"I do need a ride . . ." she pretended to think about it, "Fine. One ride."

~o0o~

The rest of the day passed without incident. Natasha was proud of herself. The mission wasn't compromised yet and she managed to attract Marcus Lawrence without breaking her promise to Clint. Lawrence had spent practically the whole day trailing her. It was kind of pathetic. He'd not tried to touch her since the time in his office, but he had major Tony Stark issues. He spent the whole day asking her about all of Tony's possessions and then he either boasted loudly that he owned one of whatever it was, or he sent someone to buy him one.

Nat missed Clint. After she defected, the whole seducing thing was no longer as fun as it had been. She'd do it, of course, but still, it made her feel dirty, letting men paw all over her. And then when she and Clint just kind of happened, it felt plain wrong. Men still fawned all over her and stared when she walked by, but that no longer brought her pleasure either. Although, it _was _funny when they made a fool of themselves trying to impress her. But now she had her archer, and he makes a fool of himself plenty, with and without her involvement.

Sadly, she'd made the mistake of mentioning Stark's cars, so when she went to the parking lot for her ride, Lawrence had every one of his cars waiting for her to pick from. Still thinking of Clint, she picked a red pick-up truck. Granted, Clint's truck was old, smaller, and rusted, but she couldn't help it.

If Marcus Lawrence thought her choice was strange, he didn't comment. Poor Lawrence spent the whole first half of the ride trying to impress her, but she maintained a carefully guarded expression, as if she was wary of his advances.

Finally he gave up on small talk and jumped right in, "So, will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow? We can keep it 'purely professional' if you'd like." The smirk on his face told her that he expected her to change her mind about him by tomorrow.

"Do you ask all your new employees out to dinner? I don't want any special treatment."

"Even if you deserve it?"

"Mr. Lawrence, can I be frank? I've heard a lot about you and the way you treat women. So far you haven't proven any of those rumors wrong."

"Well, that's unfortunate," he spread his arms in a 'what can you do' expression, "I'm sorry my reputation preceded me. Give me a chance to prove it wrong. Dinner, tomorrow?"

She nodded reluctantly and they rode the rest of the way in silence. After waving of his offer to walk her in, she waited for him to drive away before going up to her apartment.

She turned the key and saw her bag, the one she'd hastily packed the day before, sitting inside the door. After thoroughly checking the apartment for listening devices (SHEILD's or anyone else's), she powered up her computer and contacted Fury to say that she was ready to report.

In a matter of minutes, Fury's serious and eye-patched face appeared on her screen. "Miss Romanoff, I trust today went well."

"Yes, sir. Lawrence admitted to having 'dirty secrets' and offered to share them sometime. This doesn't mean he's guilty, obviously, but he also invited me to dinner tomorrow."

"Any intel on his former nanny; is she involved?"

"She appears to be just a doting caregiver who wants the best for her Marcus. She knows about his women problem and warned me away from him, for my benefits or his, I don't know. And, sir, I'd like permission to reveal at dinner tomorrow and take the information by force. He'll be so amazed by a woman who can actually _do _something besides look pretty that I think he'll give us everything we need."

"You think he will? And what happens if he doesn't?"

"Sir, you gave me this mission," Nat reminded him, "You asked me to get the information and after spending a _very _long day with this man, I believe this is the right way to go."

"I asked you to become one of his toys and get answers that way. Why do you have a problem with this all of a sudden? It's routine for someone like you."

Natasha almost smiled. Fury just gave her a perfect lie for her reluctance, "That's it, sir. I'm tired of being a 'woman like me.' I'm worth more than my body, sir. And I've decided to start respecting my body more."

"You know as well as I do that no agents see you for just your body, unless your body is beating them up. There is no way Marcus Lawrence will respect any woman. Does Agent Barton have anything to do with this decision?"

"Clint?" she put the perfect amount of surprise and scorn in her voice, "Why would he care?"

Fury just fixed his eye on her. "Well, I'm sorry, Agent Romanoff, permission denied. Keep Lawrence your cover. At dinner tomorrow, wear a bug and make Lawrence confess without using force. I know you have brains, use them," he sighed, "I'm sure you can get what we need while still respecting your body."

"Sir, if he tries to touch me, I _will _beat his butt right there, cover or not."

"Understood. You know the consequences of purposely blowing a cover?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And good luck tomorrow." He clicked off of her screen and she sighed. She didn't particularly like lying to her boss, but sometimes Director Fury made it hard not to.

What she really needed right now was to talk to Clint. She grabbed her phone and it Clint's speed dial. He answered on the first ring. "Nat?"

"Hey, Clint, it's safe."

"How's the mission?" Clint sounded as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Lawrence is such a jerk."

"Worse than Tony?'

"Way worse. I asked permission to break cover. I have a dinner date with Lawrence tomorrow."

"What did Fury say?"

"Denied. Clint, this is harder than I thought."

"What is?"

"Seducing someone without breaking my promise."

"I told you, you don't have to promise me anything. I don't expect anything."

"I know. But I want to."

"Fine. Has he tried anything?"

"He tried to kiss me," she laughed, "you should have heard him!"

"Cheesy?"

"Yep. I miss all your comments on the comm. I miss you," she added softer.

"I miss you too. But I understand why Fury won't let me have a comm. Remember the time you almost laughed when you were supposed to be talking about your dead father?"

Natasha snorted, "Your fault. Remember when you ran into that pole because you were trying to text me back?"

"How could I forget? I still have the scar!"

Nat laughed. It was good to talk to her archer again. They went over strategy for her dinner date until she realized that for Clint, in a different time zone, it was three in the morning. She forced him to go to bed before getting into bed herself and tossing and turning, trying to find ways to get information from Lawrence without using her body. She finally drifted off, her sleep only broken by her usual nightmares.

**A/N So, this chapter was very long. I wasn't sure if I should turn it into two. What do you think? Please let me know if this should be two shorter chapters. Thanks and review!**


	4. Ch 4: Just Another Secret Agent

**A/N This was supposed to be the final chapter, but it seemed to flow more when I separated it into two. Also, I haven't updated in a while, so I felt that I better post something quick. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love y'all, and for those who haven't it's not too late to be feeling the love! Leave a review! Please!**

Ch. 4: Just Another Secret Agent

Natasha woke up, showered and dressed. She was on auto-pilot, still mulling over her conversation with Clint from the night before. She still had a few hours before she needed to leave, so she began a few training exercises geared toward women. Once she was confidant she could handle Lawrence (even in her tight skirt and blouse), she fixed herself breakfast.

Even after she lingered over her omelette, she was early. So she wandered around the lonely apartment, straightening rugs and paintings and alphabetizing the small bookshelf. After cursing the training that made her get up at such an ungodly hour, she returned to practicing hand-to-hand drills. She sighed. It seemed no matter what she tried, she couldn't break her old habits.

Old habits might die hard, but she hadn't even broken a sweat before it was finally time to leave. Even though she was walking to work, she still got there 15 minutes early and had to wait by Mrs. Winters' desk until the elderly woman arrived.

Mrs. Winters looked surprised to see Natasha standing there. "Eager to please?" she asked dryly.

"I just had extra time this morning, so I figured I'd come on," Nat shrugged as if she wasn't concerned. It seemed that Mrs. Winters wasn't too fond of Natalie, probably because of Lawrence's reaction to her.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Mrs. Winters said, "I thought asked you to stay away from Marcus?"

"I tried, Mrs. Winters. I have no more inclination to become involved with him than you do. He approached _me_," Natasha said evenly.

Mrs. Winters made a small humphing noise, "I hear you're going to dinner with him."

"Trust me, ma'am, tonight won't go the way he wants it to."

Mrs. Winters humphed again, before silently handing Natasha a stack of papers to sort through. Nat took them to her desk upstairs and once again waited for Lawrence to arrive. She contemplated all the other secretaries who must have done the same. They probably had a different reason. Sighing, she flipped a page. If there was one thing this mission has taught her, it's that she is not cut out to be a secretary. But, actually, she's not really cut out to be anything except what she is.

This time, when Marcus Lawrence walked past her, he only dropped a folded note on her desk and nodded politely. Nat wondered it Mrs. Winters had a talk with him.

The note was quite simple. "Be ready for tonight. Pick you up at 8," was written in a large scrawl. Nat rolled her eyes and crumpled the note. This would be another long, lonely day.

It was another long day, but Lawrence left her alone. Nat figured he felt he'd already won her, by getting the date, so he didn't need to bother her anymore.

Nat arrived back at her apartment by six and, by quarter till eight, she was clothed in the one dress she'd brought and attaching weapons to her body. A gun and extra bullets in her purse, a gun in a thigh holster, and knives in various other places, including an ornate one to hold back her hair. Clint had given her the knife, fashioned to work as a hair clip, soon after he'd met her. She missed him like crazy, but was coping as best she could.

She once again wondered at Fury's game. Nat was positive that Fury was trying to put strain on her and Clint's relationship, but was he trying to break them up, test how far they can go, or find out if their being together affects their work? Nat's ponderings were interrupted by a honk from outside. Glancing out the window, she saw Lawrence gesturing from the front seat of a shiny Corvette for her to come on down.

Lawrence obviously didn't feel the need to come to the door, or even exit the car, and obviously either didn't care or remember that she preferred his truck. Nat felt his eyes on her, all of her, as she walked to the car and slid into the seat, but she kept her eyes averted.

When she finally looked at him, he was smiling at her, "So, Nat, I finally figured you out."

"Figured what out? And don't call me Nat." She buckled her seat belt.

"Why? Is Nat what your boyfriend calls you?"

This was perfect. Natasha couldn't help a natural aversion to Lawrence, but she still needs to make him think she likes him, so if 'Natalie' has a boyfriend, she can explain her dislike of Lawrence's attentions without hurting his man-pride. "Yes, he does, actually," she said calmly.

"Ha! I knew I'd figured it out. If you didn't have a boyfriend, why would you hesitate to go out with me? You think I'll steal you away from your boyfriend." He laughed. He'd said boyfriend mockingly, and Natasha didn't kid herself that he'd stop hitting on her, but at least she was right. "I got us reservations at Bella Capella's Italian Grill."

Natasha was obviously supposed to be impressed. She didn't respond.

"I'm sure you will appreciate the effort and money involved in this endeavor. I'll bet your boyfriend had never taken you anywhere this nice," he glanced sideways at her, "I hope you dressed well enough."

"I'm sure I know your wealth without being told repeatedly. At least Francis isn't arrogant or flashy." Okay, that might have been a mistake. But maybe he'd get a clue.

"Francis? Your boyfriend's name is Francis?" Luckily, Lawrence was too busy laughing at that to register her insult.

"Yes," she said shortly, as if she was annoyed. Annoyed would be what Clint would be if he finds out she used his middle name. But she technically wasn't even lying.

Lawrence said nothing, but smiled smugly, like he knew it wouldn't be hard to steal her away from 'Francis'. They pulled into the parking lot at Bella Capella's. Natasha could barely hide her disgust when Lawrence failed to even hold the door for her.

A few minutes and a hundred dollars later, Nat was scooting in her own chair, and slipping out of her light wrap. Lawrence's eye once again took her in, this time focusing on her neckline. As a waitress came and took their drink orders, Natasha claimed she had to use the restroom and slipped away from the table.

Once in the very pink bathroom, Nat slipped her comm out of her purse. She really should have put it in earlier, but she wanted to maximize her time without someone barking orders in her ear. If no one gave her orders, she could do whatever she thought necessary.

To her surprise (and not many things surprise her), it wasn't Phil or Maria or even Fury's voice she heard when she switched the small device on. To was Clint's. "Hey, Tasha," he said.

"Clint?" Nat let her surprise show, knowing that Clint liked catching her by surprise.

"So, what's up?" Clint sounded smug.

"How did you manage this?" A door shut, so Nat whipped out her phone to pretend to be talking on that. The middle-age woman went into a stall, but Nat said, "How'd your mother doing?", the code between her and Clint that meant she wasn't alone.

"Well, Fury informed me of a shocking conversation with you last night. He hopes I'll talk some sense into you." This was unexpected. What is Fury playing at? Why put Clint on the comm? Especially considering his track record.

"We need to talk about this." The lady came out of the stall, "I hope she gets better. I-I know. . . I have to go now, my date is waiting . . . of course, Cousin Aggie," Nat rolled her eyes at the woman, playing the part of the exasperated relative. "Yes, yes. I love you too. B-Bye. Yes. Bye." Nat 'hung up' the phone and went to put it in her purse.

The lady nodded to Nat's phone. "Did she interrupt your date?"

Natasha nodded and rolled her eyes again, "Yep. Cousin Aggie can be _so_ annoying," she said, knowing that 'Cousin Aggie' could still hear her.

Clint chose not to say anything in response and, after the lady left, Natasha filled him in on the date so far.

"You told him your boyfriend's name is Francis?" was all Clint had to say.

"Yes. It wasn't even a lie." Nat adjusted the comm, "I've gotta go. Don't wanna keep Marcus waiting. Do you have any visuals?"

"Since when is he Marcus? And I tapped into the security cams."

Natasha pushed open the door and stepped into the bright dining area. "Since when do you care what I call him? I fully intend to beat his butt before the night's through," she said under her breath.

"Good point. You look beautiful, by the way."

Nat snorted, but was prevented from responding because she had arrived back at her table.

"I ordered for you," Lawrence said as she sat down, "You're having steak, like me."

"What if I'm a vegetarian?" She probably should've just gone with it, but it appears that her patience was very thin tonight.

"Are you?"

"No."

"Then I don't see the problem."

"The problem is –" she started.

"Nat!" Clint broke in.

"There isn't a problem. I'm sorry, Mr. Lawrence," Natasha said, getting control of herself. She smiled at him.

"Let's talk, Natalie."

"Talk? About what?"

"I want to know more about you, about this boyfriend of yours."

"Oh, no. I want to talk about _you_." She fluttered her eyelashes.

"Me?" he affected a tone of false modesty.

"I believe you mentioned secrets earlier?"

Nat heard Clint snort, "Real subtle, Tasha."

Knowing where the cameras were, she hand signed in the view of one of them, "Shut it. I'm trying to get this over with." Out loud she said, "Well, you see, I'm terribly interested in people." She casually ran a hand along the curve of her wine glass, "I'd love to see what makes you tick. You're such a smart person, after all."

Nat could almost feel Lawrence bristle with arrogance, "I don't tell my secrets to just anyone. What will you give me in return?"

"What do you want?" she smiled coyly.

"Natalie," Lawrence reached a hand out and put it on hers where it rested on the table, "I'd love to see your apartment later. You're interested in people, but I'm just interested in _you_."

There was silence on the comm. This would be the part where Clint started making gagging sounds and Natasha started holding back laughter. Nat continued to flirt with Lawrence, holding him off with smiles and sexy half-promises, but her mind was working furiously. She realized Fury's plan. Fury must know that Natasha promised Clint something. He wants Clint to be there when she breaks that promise. But Nat has no intention of doing anything of the sort. Has she gone too far? She promised that she wouldn't let Lawrence touch her, but they both knew that she would have to flirt. Wasn't Clint the one who wanted her to do the job in the first place? She'd just resolved herself to break cover and find out what the hell was wrong with Clint when he finally spoke.

"I changed my mind. It does bother me," he said. Natasha stopped mid-sentence. She wasn't sure what she'd been saying to Lawrence anyway.

It was time to get serious. She cleared her throat, as if that had been her reason for stopping. "So, Marcus, I believe you offered to tell me a secret? I'll tell you one of mine."

Lawrence smiled. "I'm building something. Something that will make Tony Stark's suits look like the pathetic pieces of trash they are," yep, this guy had Stark problems, "it's almost done."

"I'd love to see it sometime."

"I'd love to see more of you sometime."

She'd almost gotten a confession. Why not go along with him, and have him take her to StunCo and get the files from his computer? She didn't want steak anyway. "How about right now?"

Nat could feel Clint's eyes on her as Lawrence led her to the door. She felt really bad. She shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't have accepted this mission. As soon as she knew Fury's plan, she should've stopped it.

"Tasha, cut it out," Clint said in her ear, causing her to jump like a scared cat. She _never_ jumps like that. Clint was silent for a minute, probably absorbing the fact that he'd just done the impossible. "Hey, it's fine, Tasha. Get your job done. Soon, so you can come home to me. Stop beating yourself up about my feelings, and go beat the crap out of Lawrence."

Natasha nodded, knowing Clint could see her. Luckily, Lawrence was engaged in paying and explaining why they were leaving without eating. Aware that when she got into the car with Lawrence Clint would no longer be able to see her, she once again signed behind her back, "You're right. I'm sorry . . ."

Wait, what was that? Clint could've sworn that after Tasha signed an apology, she signed, "I love you." That's crazy. Tasha's never said that to him, except as a cover. He must've missed something. Just to be safe, Clint made a copy of the tape so he could look later.

Natasha didn't think about what she just did. She just smiled to Lawrence and got in the car. She was finding it more and more difficult to listen to Lawrence, especially since his conversation was growing more . . . revolting.

When they neared the turn that would take them to her apartment, Nat gasped suddenly, stopping Lawrence mid-sentence.

"What?" he asked, annoyed. No matter how sexy his now secretary was, some of her behavior was just plain inappropriate. He'd have a talk with her about it, after he turned her off of her boyfriend for good.

"I left my purse on my desk. It had things I need in it."

"Things that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Not if you want this night to go the way you're saying it will." Let's see how long it takes him to get the picture.

"Oh," Lawrence searched around for some excuse. He was so tired of waiting. "I will need heirs to my vast fortune one day."

Before Nat could answer, Clint cut in her comm, "Did he just ask you to have his children?"

Nat snorted, but quickly controlled herself. "I need them. Take me to StunCo or take me to my apartment, but only one will get you in my bed."

With much grumbling, Lawrence pulled into the StunCo parking lot. He told her shortly tha the'd wait in the car, which was fine by her. Now she could talk to Clint.

"So remind me again why you're here?" he asked once she was out of sight of Lawrence.

"So I'm not in bed with him? Isn't that enough?" she rolled her eyes, "I'm scanning his computer."

"Didn't you already do that?"

"Duh. From my desk. I'm going to hack his office computer," she stepped into the elevator.

"Right. But you were in his office yesterday. Why didn't you do it then?"

"I was busy trying to keep him from kissing me." That shut him up. But not for long.

"Did-did you sign something earlier?"

"Clint," she sighed, "Is this the time? These comms aren't secure."

"So, wait, you did? You do? Really?"

"Really," Nat said, slipping into Lawrence's office. "Can we focus, please?"

"Yep. Sure. Right. Oh, but I do too. I mean, I do you. I mean –"

"Shut up, Clint, and read me the codes Maria cracked last week."

"How can I shut up and read you the codes at the same time?"

"Clint." This time her voice held a warning note.

"Right." Clint read the codes and in next to no time, Nat had the system locked down and found the evidence they were looking for, which she sent straight to SHIELD.

"You getting this?"

"Yep. Oh, heads up, Lawrence is coming."

"Good. It's time he met Natasha, the feminist."

"So, you're a feminist now? When did that happen?" Clint asked as she made her way down to the lobby.

"Might as well be, as far as Lawrence is concerned."

"Oooh, I'd better get my popcorn."

Nat snorted, "Just send in clean-up." She reached the lobby, and switched the comm on speaker. It's time Lawrence met Clint.

"Who are you talking to?" Lawrence was beyond annoyed. Perfect, time to annoy him even more.

"My boyfriend."

"I'm not your boyfriend," Clint protested, and Lawrence jerked at the sound.

"Then what are you?" Nat asked, ignoring Lawrence and his repeated query as to who she was talking to.

"I'm your man."

"Right," she rolled her eyes and turned to Lawrence. "He isn't too happy with you," she said to the billionaire, "Neither am I. And, come to think of it, neither is my boss."

"I'm your boss," Lawrence scoffed.

"Uh, nope. Nick Fury is. All you are is under arrest."

"Nick . . . You're SHIELD!"

"Duh. Hands in the air." Nat drew her gun, mainly for show, it's not like she needed it to take out Lawrence. She _so_ enjoyed making obnoxious grown men look like idiots.

Lawrence spluttered for a minute and tried running to the door. Even though Nat knew clean-up was right outside the door, she knocked him out with the butt of her gun anyway.

Lawrence's world went black to the sound of laughter coming from the annoying male voice, which was joined by laughter by Nat herself.

**A/N So, I did take the whole 'I'm her man' thing from the picture that comes up when you Google Clintasha. I don't know whose it is, but I think it's really cute. The next chapter will be Clint and Natasha's reunion and the whole resolution deal. After I typed it, I realized that this is the longest chapter for any fic I've ever done, so it's good I decided to split it up. Stay tuned for more Clintasha.**


	5. Ch 5: Just Another Reunion

**A/N Here's the last chapter! Sorry it's been forever, I've been really busy and I had a brief stint of writer's block. Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my story, I love y'all! Thanks to everyone who helped along the way, you know who you are! I don't know what else to say, and my best friend is being no help. (She is sitting right next to me, and I asked her what to say in this, the last A/N of the last chapter of Just Another Mission, but she has yet to finish a story so she doesn't understand the feels running through me right now. But y'all probably don't want to hear about her. Sorry, ArcelSkye, you know I love you!)**

Ch. 5 Just Another Reunion

The mission ended pretty quickly. Natasha practically ordered some rookies to go to her cover apartment and get her stuff so she could head straight to the plane. As soon as Lawrence was safely in custody and the mission declared officially over, Clint had to turn in his comm. So Natasha made him promise to go to bed after he was done with post-mission, because he hadn't been sleeping well of late. She'd ordered him to bed for good reason, and she needed sleep as well, but she really missed him. They needed to talk about her earlier confession. She needed to figure that out herself, actually. It wasn't like her to inadvertently do anything, let alone an admission of love.

Love. A dangerous word, especially for Natasha Romanoff. But not forbidden, like it was to Natalia Romanova. Like it is to Black Widow. Natasha sighed and pressed her face to the plane window's cool glass. She didn't know who she was anymore. It was so much easier when she was forbidden to care. Now, now that there's Clint, she feels like she's losing herself.

Or finding herself. This person she is with Clint, is that who she'd be if she hadn't been snapped up by the Red Room? She shook herself from those thoughts and what-ifs and gave up on falling asleep for a while. She settled back in the cushy airplane seats. She had to figure some things out before she could face Clint again.

Natalia Romanova used love as a weapon. Black Widow was indifferent to it. What did Natasha, Clint's Tasha, feel, now that she was allowed to? Nat turned to her old go-to for such problems: her brain.

The Red room was gone, from her life and everyone else's. She'd made sure of that. They were the only ones forcing her to not feel. No one would punish her for feeling, or being open about it.

But Black Widow couldn't be open, couldn't be weak. When she donned that cat-suit and walked those halls she had to be the sexless fearsome assassin. Oh, people (men) still fell prey to her looks, but her fellow agents had to care more about what she could do to them than what she might be feeling. Now that she had established a reputation, however, Natasha was coming out from behind the Widow. She saw so many agents laugh and socialize within SHIELD, and a part of her longed for that. She was tired of getting surprised looks when she smiled or laughed or told a joke. Maybe it was time to open up to someone other than Clint.

Clint. Everything came back to him. She'd told him, or rather hand-signed, that she loved him. As soon as she'd done it, she'd realized that it was true. As alien as love was to her, she was in it and she'd fallen hard. Clint deserved someone who was honest with him and was their true selves. He deserved someone better. So she would be better. For him.

Her problem solved (even if the idea scared her), Natasha could sleep away the remainder of the plane ride back to base, back to Clint.

~o0o~

Clint was finally able to sleep, after replaying the night in his head, over and over. Natasha said she loved him. Even after he'd slept, gotten up, showered, and dressed, he was still stuck on that. Well, stuck oscillating between that and the fact that he would be seeing Tasha today.

He felt like a teenager about to go on a first date. Clint usually didn't care what he wore, and it showed in his wardrobe choices, but now he dug through his drawers until he found Nat's favorite shirt. Tasha loves him. Natasha loves him. Natasha Romanoff loves Clint Barton. Black Widow loves Hawkeye.

Clint forces himself to stop. She only _said _she loves him. People say that too flippantly as it is. Tasha obviously didn't mean to say it, so was it an actual confession or just a natural phrase to follow an apology. But, for it to be natural, it would have to be oft-repeated, and Tasha said neither 'I'm sorry' nor 'I love you' often. So she must mean it, right? Clint didn't want to set himself up for disappointment.

He_ was_ a SHIELD agent, so even if it didn't seem like it, he's very meticulous. So he planned. He would just tell her how he feels and give her a chance to return the favor. Even if he'd practically said it over the comm. He'd just act as if none of that happened, as if it wasn't driving him insane.

So Clint focused on the latter of his two main thoughts, that Nat should be arriving soon. He shifted on the uncomfortable airport seat and watched the runway out the window, his leg jiggling in frustration. Natasha's plane was supposed to have landed half an hour ago.

Clint had hacked the Air Traffic Control about five minutes after she was supposed to have arrived, so he could listen in to find out when she was close. He may not be as tech-y as Stark, but he can manage that much.

When he finally heard the pilots announce the plane preparing to land, he jumped up and ran toward the tar-mac. He had to drop some airport guy to get out the door, but he'd worry about that later.

The plane was one of SHIELD's private high-tech jets, used only for ferrying around agents on missions, and since this was a solo mission, Tasha will basically be the only one on board. Clint stood on the edge of the runway nervously.

Natasha ran down the steps of the plane and practically jumped into his arms. They were embracing like some cliché TV couple, and it was throwing Clint for a loop. He wasn't complaining, he loved holding Tasha, but where was the bantery/flirty remark about him waiting for her like some pining teenage girl? That's what he expected. What was going on?

She didn't kiss him, there_ were_ still agents around, but she took forever to pull back from his embrace.

"What's up?" he asked, tucking one of her fiery curls behind her ear.

"I missed you. Lawrence . . . Lawrence made me realize what I have waiting at home," Nat took a deep breath, "I love you, Clint."

Clint exhaled loudly. There went his plans, but he couldn't exactly complain. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him. Tasha was looking at him nervously. Oh, right, he should probably respond instead of standing there grinning like an idiot.

Natasha yelped as Clint grabbed her hand and pulled her into the small room he'd come through. "Did you knock out an airport dude?" she asked, nudging the guy with her foot as they passed him.

"Shut up and listen." He pulled her deeper into the room, "Why do you always have to ruin my plans?"

"What?" Natasha was really confused, and Natasha Romanoff was rarely confused by anything. She'd assumed/hoped that Clint had dragged her into this private room to either tell her he loves her, or at least kiss her or something.

"I wanted to do this some other way," he ran a hand through her hair, "I had it all planned. We were going to go to my house and I was going to cook you dinner and . . ." he trailed off, aware that he was rambling.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. He wasn't going to do something stupid like propose, was he?

"Because I love you," he said, finally meeting her eyes.

"You planned how you would tell me you love me?" Natasha shook her head, "You already did on the comm . . ."

"No I didn't, not really."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Well, neither did I, if you want to get technical."

"I – I wasn't sure if you meant it," she opened her mouth to respond but he cut her off with a hand, "So, I was going to just tell you how I feel and give you a chance to tell me how you feel."

"God, Clint. I told you I did!"

"Excuse me for being a bit insecure when it comes to my amazing girlfriend, Nat!"

Natasha laughed, "So I can't call you my boyfriend, but you can call me your girlfriend? Nice double standard." Clint didn't seem to know how to respond, earning a chuckle from the woman holding his hand, "Just kiss me, you idiot," she said, moving closer. So he did.

**A/N So . . . that's it. It's over. (I take back what I said about ArcelSkye, she helped me spell words for this chapter.) Please Review this final chapter!**


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